A Friendly Wager
by Victoria to Worthing
Summary: Will Jack and Anamaria make up? A sequel to my other JA stories!


Author's note: Finally, the last (or maybe next-to-last) bit of my Jack/Anamaria series! I'm just in the mood for starting it now, and I'll be sure to finish and post as soon as possible! Thank you SO much to everyone who has reviewed the other parts of the series, it's so encouraging and I really loved writing these! So please review this one and tell me if I should write one more part of it, because I DO have an idea for one. Thanks!

Anamaria slumped her head onto the bar, cushioning her face against her arm and staring glumly at her rum. She crossed her eyes—two rums. Uncrossed them—one again. She reached out, snatched the glass, and chugged down the rest of the drink, tossing the glass to the floor. No rum at all. She slid her eyes closed.

She wasn't accustomed to doubting herself or thinking about feelings, but Jack seemed to bring that out in her. Bloody pirate.

She thought of her own angry words, his astonished and—let's admit it—handsome face, and the blank stares of the flamenco dancers. She couldn't suppress a giggle. If not for the temper she'd had, the situation would have been rather funny. Hilarious, actually. She laughed so hard that her ribs bumped against the counter, ignoring the stares of the curious bar patrons who plainly thought that she was just a silly wench who couldn't hold her liquor. 

She had surprised herself with her outburst in the street. She wasn't angry about Jack being jealous. In fact, she had very much enjoyed it. Her irritation came from the fact that he acted possessive at every opportunity, yet grumbled at her when she complained about his wandering eye. Every few minutes she saw him looking another girl up and down, and when she left him alone she was sure to come back to the annoying sight of him chatting (if not more than that) with the nearest barmaid. When she got angry, he laughed at her or stormed about petulantly, most often brushing off everything she said. 

Her fury had sprung forth from her deep resentment of his utter unwillingness to behave like he _really _loved her. Kisses and talk were cheap with Jack Sparrow—his word was something altogether different, and he had withheld it. And, though only God knew why, she wanted that drunken fool to herself.

She let her head slide down and bump harshly on the wooden countertop. She deserved the stab of pain, for her own stupidity. 

"That didn't sound pleasant, love."

She jumped, her head popping up so suddenly that she got dizzy. Jack sauntered into her field of vision and climbed onto the stool next to hers.

"What're you doin' here?" she mumbled ungraciously. 

"Having a drink, of course. The fact that I knew you were predictable enough to come here is purely coincidental." He accompanied this statement with one of his usual dramatic gestures, and Anamaria sighed and threw her head back onto the bar, feeling completely drained, and also a little annoyed at the small swell of emotion that accompanied every sight of Jack Sparrow.

"Trying to knock some sense into your head?" He daintily walked two of his fingers up her spine, and she squirmed away from him. "Oh, don't be cold, darling."

"Go to—"

"I get the idea. You're still mad?"

She didn't answer.

"Clearly that's a _yes_, then." He leaned down so that he was looking her in the face, but she just clamped her eyes shut and turned the other way.

He tried a new tack. "Are you so angry just because I want you all to myself?"

This brought a reaction, though not one he particularly enjoyed. Her head jerked up and she glared at him. "No, I'm _angry _because you want every strumpet in Tortuga all to yourself, too!" 

"No, no, I want all the strumpets in Tortuga, but you're the only strumpet—excuse me, pirate wench—that I want to keep _all to myself_. It's a different sort of thing, savvy?" He raised his eyebrows encouragingly.

"That's not good enough, Cap'n," she answered wearily. "Why don't you just leave port with the _Pearl_ now, she's the only lady you're true to."

"Aye, that's quite true, but I'm still not leaving without you." He struck a stubborn pose, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, get used this lovely scenery, then." She hopped off her barstool, intending to storm off effectively but instead stumbling as soon as her feet hit the floor. Jack caught hold of her arms to steady her, and before she could pull away he tugged her into his lap. She made a half-hearted attempt to escape, and he tightened his arms around her. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Please, Ana, don't leave … you know I love you… I just can't promise—"

Her resistance rushed back. "Let go, let go, I'm sick of hearing about all the things you 'can't promise', just let me be!" She squealed, kicking him in the shins.

"Oh, no, dear, I—ow, ow, you wretched sea witch!" She leapt off his lap and prepared to sprint away, but he caught her hand.

"_What do you want from me?_" Jack shouted in exasperation. "What can I do to make you stay?"

This open-ended query caught Anamaria's imagination. "You really want to know?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

"I've told you already, fool!"

Jack put his hands on his hips. "Well, _why_ am I asking, then?"

"Because you don't want to give it to me." Her voice got quiet.

"Give _what _to you?"

She sighed. "I want you all to myself. That's all I want… well, that and treasure, of course. "

"And rum?"

"Rum's a given."

"Ah, yes." Jack sighed and looked down at the floor. "And there's the trouble, love. Jack Sparrow doesn't belong to _any_ woman."

"Yes, I know, an' that's why I'm leavin'." She turned and started to walk away, and this time it seemed he was going to let her. _This is it, then?_ she thought dazedly. 

Just as she reached the tavern door, Jack leapt in front of her. She jumped back, and he caught her by the shoulders. "Look here! I can't let you go, Ana. But I can't say that I'll be true to you, I've never been true to anyone, I mean if I promised to keep away from other girls, we might as well be _married _then, and you know I…"

"Married?" Anamaria repeated in an upward intonation.

"Yes, because I couldn't… why are you looking at me like that?"

"_Would _you ever get married?"

"What? No! Never, that's why I was saying—"

"Why'd you bring it up then?"

"I didn't, I meant—"

"Oh Jack, I _hate _you!" She shook free of him once and for all and ran out of the tavern as fast as she could, leaving the stunned pirate behind. Once again, she derided her own stupidity. A scoundrel like Jack would never marry anyone unless threatened with the gallows, and maybe not even then. For him, monogamy was the fate worse than death! She thought of his exaggeratedly sad face, and firmly declared, "Good riddance!", trying to ignore the enormous ache of separation that tore across her heart.

~*~*~

She settled down in a room in an inn on the very edge of town and spent most of the night wondering if the _Pearl _had sailed yet. She thought of the waves rocking her like a cradle as she slept, and the sea air caressing her face as she stayed up for the night watch. Oh, she missed the sea. She missed the _Pearl_. Would another ship ever let her join the crew? Pirates were so superstitious about women onboard. She might be stuck on this wretched island for months. She rolled over and pressed her face hard into her pillow, then quickly turned it back up to the air. Clearly this inn didn't wash their linen often enough.

She missed Jack, too. Sometimes he'd slip into her room at night, trying to move quietly so that she wouldn't notice and he could scare her. It never worked. She'd always hear his quiet breathing or see a shift in the shadows around him, or maybe it was just the way her heart always started beating fast when he got close to her.

She clamped her eyes shut and tried to pretend that she was on the _Pearl, _and that the noises she heard might be Jack drawing near her instead of the carousing of the rowdy sailors in the rooms below.

Just then, a hand clapped down on her arm. She let out a scream loud enough to wake anyone that was actually sleeping in the inn and sat up so quickly that she smacked foreheads with the dark figure that was bending over her.

"Owwww!" the figure moaned.

"Who's here?" Anamaria shouted, grabbing her pistol from under the edge of her mattress and shoving it toward the intruder.

"It's me! It's Jack! Put that bloody thing down!"

"Jack? I thought you'd left." She lowered the pistol but kept it grasped in her hand.

"I told you I wouldn't leave without you."

"Yes, and I told you that you can just—"

"Yes, yes, let bygones be bygones. Won't you come with me now? Please?"

"Pff! Why should I?"

"Because I love you?"

"Liar."

His silhouette grew tall and proud. "Don't insult your captain's word, Ana."

"You won't even give me your word!"

"Do you really hate me?"

Silence reigned in the darkness for a moment.

"No."

"Don't you love me?"

She refused to answer.

"Please come? No other captain will want a woman on his ship! You'll be stuck here for ages." He clicked his tongue admonishingly.

"I'll take care of myself, and you know it."

His hand suddenly found hers in the dark. She expected him to keep arguing, but instead he just gave her arm a gentle tug and pulled her to him. She stayed tense for a while, expecting him to try to drag her down to the ship, but he stayed still, and she finally relaxed. She let her head loll against his shoulder, and he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She basked in the calm for a few minutes, then forced herself to speak. "Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I want you to marry me."

A long pause followed her words. When he spoke, his voice was wary. "You're not still holding that pistol, are you?"

She took in an insulted breath of air, but he cut her indignation off short.

"I never thought of you as the domestic kind, Ana."

"I'm not, but if we were married I'd have the right to beat the living daylights out of you if you chased after someone else!"

"Isn't it obvious why I'm against this arrangement?"

"Please? If you love me?" Oh, now she was begging. This was becoming humiliating to her pirate's sense of pride.

"Pirates don't get married, m'love, particularly not to each other."

"I thought your only rules were 'what a man can do' and 'what a man can't do'!"

"But that's just it! I _can't_ give you what you want!"

She pulled away from him, missing his arms as soon as she moved. "Then I guess you should leave."

She heard the rustle as he rose from the bed. "Do you really want me to?" He was using his teasing, caressing tone, incongruously lighthearted in the midst of all this.

"No. But you can't stay if nothing will change." She held strong against his charms, for once.

"This is it, then? The final farewell? The end of our voyage together?" She could imagine his dramatic postures, even though she couldn't see him at all until he walked over in front of the window, and only the gravity of the situation kept her from laughing at his antics as she usually did.

She nodded, then realized that he might not be able to see her in the dark. He must have picked up the motion somehow, though, because she saw the set of his shoulders change to a humbler pose.

Before she even noticed that he was moving, his arms were around her and he was kissing her. She remembered their first kiss after he (drunkenly) confessed that he loved her, the many kisses that followed their many quarrels. Would this be the last one? She thought of all his attempted infidelities, trying to make herself hate him and want him to go, but it wasn't working.

The second he pulled back from the embrace, he blurted out, "I've got an idea!"

"Hmm?" Anamaria said groggily, still a little surprised by his sudden affection.

"We'll leave it up to chance!"

"Leave what up to chance?"

"We'll have a game of cards. If you win, I'll—" he had to force the words out "-- marry you. If I win, you stop this nonsense and come back to the _Pearl_ with me."

"Whose deck do we use?"

"We'll buy a new one, of course. Fair and square. Do we have an accord?"

Anamaria considered him through narrowed eyes. "I guess so…"

"Better kiss me again to make it official."

"Do you seal all your deals this way?" she laughed as he leaned down toward her.

"Only with you, love."

~*~*~

They sat across each other at a table in the main room of the inn, a pile of cards between them and the cards that determined their fate neatly fanned out in their respective hands. It was the last hand of the game. 

"You first," Anamaria sighed, studying Jack's face for a sign of the cards' verdict. 

He slapped his cards down on the table, and she gasped.

"What? What is it?" he asked nervously.

She slapped her cards down on top of his. "Ha!"

He saw the high suit of the presented cards and began swearing vehemently, while Anamaria laughed triumphantly.

"You gave your word, remember!" she crowed, leaping up from her seat.

"Yes, yes, don't remind me." He rested his elbow on the table and set his forehead on his hand.

She paused in her jubilation. "This isn't a death sentence, you know!" His depression really wasn't very flattering.

"It might as well be! Marrying makes men go _soft_, Ana."

"Only if the man marries a soft woman. You're in no danger with me!" 

"Yes, soft certainly isn't the adjective I'd choose for you." A smile flitted across his face.

"Will you keep your word to me?" she asked, pulling the conversation back to the serious topic, determined not to let him distract her again.

"The fact that you have to ask wounds me deeply, love!" He stood up from his chair, mischief coming back into his eyes.

"You'll keep your word _after_ we're married? Keep to your vows?"

"Stop talking about it, you're depressing me. Let's get this archaic ritual over with."

"You haven't answered my question!" She took a threatening step toward him.

"_Yes._ Are you happy now, yes! I'll give up all my freedom, all my fun…"

"What, ain't I any fun?" She raised one eyebrow and licked her lips.

Jack returned her grin.

"I'll be even more fun once we're married, you know…" she added coyly. 

"Fine, come on, let's see if there's a preacher on this accursed island. You've won, I hope you're satisfied."

"Do I get you all to myself?"

"Yes, I suppose so," he grumbled, apparently still searching in his mind for any loopholes in the deal.

Anamaria gave him a sideways glance. "Can we have our wedding night on the _Pearl?_"

"Naturally!" He took her hand, and she smiled contentedly.

"That's all I want."

"No more leaving me?"

"Never."

__

I love you more than ever, more than time and more than love,  
I love you more than money and more than the stars above,  
Love you more than madness, more than waves upon the sea,  
Love you more than life itself, you mean that much to me.

~Bob Dylan~

A/N: So what do you think? I'm really not sure if I like it much or not! I'm going to change it up if anyone offers some good constructive criticism! So PLEASE review, and tell me if I should change any and if I should write a final sequel!


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